I was in the middle of a run of not-too-intense web page code, when I hear a shout. “Dan!” floating down the hall from the far end of the house.
I replied, “WHAT?” without looking up, and returned my attention to the code. Yes, this script wants a semi-colon there.
After a pause my monosyllabic monicker again rang out. Nothing more. No indication for what my attention was needed.
Oh, well. I mentally book marked my code and pulled myself out of my office, and down the dark, twisting back stairs. I met Karen in the kitchen, and said, “Yes?”
“Water is pouring into the basement at the back door!”
As I dashed down the basement stairs I wondered why that little tidbit hadn’t been broadcast in the first place. Oh well. My first guess — that the 22 year old water heater had finally failed — was wrong. The water was coming in from outside.
Epiphany! The old hose segment that I’d been using to run the water from the outside tap through a water timer and to a convenient hose reel, must have failed. I ran back upstairs and opened the kitchen door to find the doorway and landing awash as the rent in the hose gushed right at the back door, and thus down the back stairs to the basement.
So I sloshed out and shut off the tap. The next day I replaced the hose on the hose reel, just because it was no longer as kink-resistant as it was when I first got it. And thus could cut a new section from the old hose to run across the back of the house.
So the Object at Hand is the now-demised hose segment.
As my regular readers know, I am a scavenger. I hate to see anything go to waste. Some decades ago a neighbor threw away a high quality hose, just because the dog had chewed up about ten feet of it about a third of the way along its length. I had to save the poor thing.
After chopping out the punctured and chawed part, I had a newish 70′ hose and a couple of good short segments. Hose ends are inexpensive and simple to replace. By now, this ten foot section had been under full pressure (and exposed to regular intense pressure pulses each time the timer clicks off) and lying in full sun for about 18 years. It had a good life since I Lazarused it in 1991.
I thank the daemons of probability that it failed less than an hour before we noticed it. We could have been away for hours, days, or weeks when it happened. Then it would have been a real mess.